


Fixing It

by Xie



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:05:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xie/pseuds/Xie
Summary: A full length story about an unhappy holiday season after Justin loses his mother, told in 58 chapters of 100 words each





	Fixing It

1.

It was Christmas Eve, and Brian was watching Justin sleep.

Rain sheeted noisily against the loft windows, and there was just enough late afternoon light to show the shadows under his eyes.

The dishes could have waited. So could the email Ted had sent him. But Brian cleaned and dried every plate, every fork, every glass, and put them all carefully away before sitting at his computer.

An hour later he heard something and looked up. It was Justin, a pillow crease on his cheek, his hair standing up. "Hey."

Brian looked at him, and thought about what to say.

2.

Brian cleared his throat. "Feeling better?"

Justin nodded, shoving his hand through his hair. "I guess I need to do some laundry."

Brian smiled. "Not very festive."

Justin started to laugh, but his voice broke. Brian stood up and wrapped his arms around him. "I know." He kissed him. "Let me…" He stopped. He couldn't do anything except what he was doing – which at the moment felt like nothing at all.

But Justin's breathing steadied, and Brian felt him leaning against him. So he stood there, his hand making small circles on Justin's back, his cheek resting on Justin's hair.

3.

It seemed like a long time before Justin lifted his head, but maybe it was only a few seconds. Brian wasn't counting.

"Thanks." Justin's eyes were wet, but there was something a little like a smile on his lips.

Brian didn't want to see it fade, so he bent down and kissed him. "Michael emailed. He wanted to bring food." He paused. "Well, he said he wanted to bring food. I think he wanted to tuck you into bed and sit and hold your hand and mother you for a few hours."

Justin really did laugh. "Debbie trained him well."

4.

Brian ran his hand through Justin's hair, and felt his lip turning in. "Speaking of Debbie, she called before you got here last night. Did you want to go over there?"

"Yeah." Justin looked at him. "Yeah, I do."

"Justin." Brian grabbed his chin and held it. "Do what you want to do, not what Debbie or Michael want you to do."

"Or what you want me to do?" But his voice was gentle.

Brian laughed. "Or what I want you to do. She was your mother, and it's nobody's business how you feel right now. Or what you do."

5.

Brian could hear the elevator in the hall, and the sound of ice dropping in the freezer. He heard a car horn on the street below. But for a long time, Justin didn't say anything.

And when he did, it was just, "I know." And then he went into the bedroom.

Brian heard the sound of the shower. He went into the bedroom and unpacked Justin's bag, but almost everything was dirty and wrinkled. He pulled clean underwear out of the drawer.

The water stopped, and Justin was standing behind him, a towel around his waist, his hair dripping. "Thanks."

6.

Brian gestured towards the dresser. "Jeans and a sweater?"

Justin laughed. "Sure. But I can dress myself, Brian. I'm okay."

Brian opened another drawer and pulled out a dark gray sweater. "I know." He let Justin find his own jeans in the closet, and watched him pull them on.

Justin glanced at him. Brian was lying on the bed, deceptively casual, leaning back on his elbows. "Do you suppose Debbie's place will be all decorated for Christmas?"

Brian nodded. "Count on it."

"Maybe I'd rather not go, then." He didn't meet Brian's eyes.

Brian just nodded again. "I'll call Michael."

7.

Brian kept his hand on Justin's back as they walked up the path to Michael and Ben's house. There was a wreath on the door, and they could see the lights of a tree through the curtains, but not one BDSM elf stood on the lawn, and not one reindeer pranced in the rain on the rooftop.

When Michael opened the door he pulled Justin into a hug and held onto him for a long, long time. When he finally let Justin go, Brian could see that he'd started to cry.

Michael ignored his stiff shoulders and hugged Brian, too.

8.

Brian patted Michael on the shoulder. "I'm fine."

Michael smiled at him, but his eyes were wet. "I know."

Ben was taking Justin's jacket, and talking to him in a low voice. Brian hung his coat on the rack near the door, and followed Michael into the living room. "Did you call Deb?"

He nodded. "She's picking up Mel and Linds and the kids at the airport, but they'll be here soon."

Brian looked at Michael sharply. "Mel and Linds are coming?"

"It's Christmas," Michael reminded him. "They were always coming today."

Right. It was Christmas Eve. Brian had forgotten.

9.

Justin was sitting with Ben, a mug in his hand. Brian sat next to him, and Ben asked if he could get him coffee or a drink.

"Whatever Justin's having is fine."

"Justin's having both – coffee with a shot of whiskey."

Brian almost laughed. "I thought you were the herbal tea guy."

Ben stood up and headed for the kitchen. "It's an old family remedy for shock."

They were alone. Brian looked at Justin, and gave the hair on his neck a tug. "Hey."

Justin put his mug on the coffee table and let Brian put his arm around him.

10.

The quiet didn't last long. Debbie and Carl came in the door, Melanie, Lindsay, and the kids right behind them. Justin got swept up into Debbie's arms, then Mel's, and then Lindsay's.

Brian bumped Gus' shoulder with his elbow, and he looked up at his father. "Should I tell him…"

Brian looked at him for a minute. "Whatever you feel like doing is fine, Gus."

He nodded, and when his mother let go of Justin, he went over to him and hugged him.

"I'm sorry about your mom," he said, very fast.

Justin smiled, and touched his arm. "Thanks, Gus."

11.

There was an awkward silence, broken by Debbie. "Is anyone hungry?"

Everyone murmured, Mel and Linds and the kids vanished upstairs with their bags, and Michael and Debbie started putting food out on the table.

Carl put his hand on Justin's shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss, Justin. Your mom was a helluva woman."

Brian thought Justin suddenly looked impossibly young. "She was, wasn't she? I mean, it's not just that she was my mother."

Ben was right behind Carl, and he answered. "She loved you, really loved you, Justin," he said. "That's the most precious thing in the world."

12.

They got through it. Got through the lasagna and the pie, the condolences and hugs. Got through everyone starting to say "Merry Christmas" and then stopping in the middle. Got through Gus looking worried and a little bit lost.

And Justin was okay. Ben had given him a couple of refills on his old family remedy, but he wasn't drunk, just relaxed. But after a couple of hours, Brian noticed his grip on his hand was getting tighter.

He stood up, and kept his voice pleasantly bland. "I guess we'll see you all at the funeral the day after tomorrow."

13.

Everyone looked at him, a little surprised, but Justin had gotten up, too. "Please try and have a good day tomorrow," he said. Then he reached out and ruffled Gus' hair. "Especially you and Jenny."

When they were in the car, Brian started the engine and turned on the heat. He turned to Justin, one eyebrow raised.

Justin bit his lip. "I hate to say this…"

Brian made a gesture with his hand. "But…"

"Can we go somewhere and get completely and utterly shit-faced?"

Brian pulled away from the curb. "Now that's an old family remedy I can believe in."

14.

If Justin wanted to get shit-faced, then Brian intended to accomplish that as efficiently as possible.

He had the bartender at Woody's line up a row of shots in front of Justin, and ordered a beer for himself. Justin knocked back three of them, then offered him the fourth. Brian took it, but refused another. "Someone has to drive."

Justin burped a little, and looked confused. "There are such things as cabs. And it's not like you've never driven under the influence."

Brian took a swallow of beer. "You're nagging me to drink _more_? That's not very wifely of you."

15.

Justin downed another shot, shuddered, and made a face. "Good, since I'm not your wife."

Brian took another swallow. "Good, since I don't want a wife."

Justin contemplated the rest of the glasses. "This is the stupidest conversation we've ever had." He glanced at Brian. "And oddly, I'm enjoying it."

He picked up the remaining two shot glasses, and nodded towards a table in the corner. Brian followed him there, and sat down next to him. He put his arms around him, wrapped his hands around the back of his neck, and kissed the taste of whisky off his lips.

16.

They went back to the loft. Brian drove, and Justin bounced and hummed in the passenger seat, changing the radio station every few minutes until Brian turned it off.

Justin leaned on Brian in the elevator, looking a little pale.

"If you puke on me, you can sleep in the hall." But Brian's hands were gentle as he tugged Justin's sweater off.

The bed gave as Justin flopped onto it, and Brian pulled off his shoes and then his jeans. When he came out of the bathroom, Justin was still awake.

Brian slid under the covers, and pulled Justin close.

17.

Justin sighed and put his head on his chest. "Getting shit-faced didn't work."

Brian kissed him. "No."

He was quiet for a minute. "Does anything?"

Brian stared at the ceiling. "No."

"Oh." He shifted against Brian. "I guess if anything did, you'd know."

"I've tried drugs, alcohol, recreational sex, hurting the people I love, hurting myself, working fifteen-hour days, fast cars, and buying shoes. If you think of anything else to try, let me know how it goes."

Justin snuffled a little laugh against Brian's skin, and then he started to cry.

Brian held him. "And I've tried that, too."

18.

After Justin fell asleep, Brian lay in the dark, thinking.

Justin had been in Tokyo when it happened. Brian had been the one to call him to tell him Jennifer had died from a reaction to a drug she was taking for bronchitis.

Brian didn't think he'd be joking about Justin's drug allergies anymore.

It had taken Justin 24 hours to get home, during which Craig managed to take over everything, supposedly on behalf of Molly. Craig had clenched his jaw when Brian walked in the house with Justin, but he didn't say a word to him, not even hello.

19.

Justin hugged his sister before he sat down. Craig started to talk, but Justin ignored him. "Thanks for helping until I got home," he said. "I'll handle everything now."

Craig didn't argue. Brian wasn't surprised; there wasn't the slightest hint of compromise in Justin's voice.

"Molly." She looked at her brother. "I'd like to have the funeral the day after Christmas. Is that okay?"

She stared, then nodded her head. "Okay."

Justin stood up, and so did Brian. "Then we will."

Brian hung back while Molly and Justin walked to the car together. Craig didn't even come to the door.

20.

Brian thought Justin would sleep late, but when he woke up, he was alone in bed. He found Justin curled up on the sofa, the television on with the sound muted, a bottle of aspirin and a cup of coffee in front of him on the coffee table. Justin glanced up when he saw Brian, and turned the sound on.

Brian got himself a cup of coffee, and sat next to him on the sofa. "What are we watching?"

Justin shrugged. "Some show about people who go insane decorating their houses for Christmas."

Brian nodded. "Ah, yes. The Debbie Channel."

21.

They watched the television in silence for a while.

"You know," Justin said, eyes on the television screen, "It's not that I feel guilty I wasn't here. It's not that I regret the last thing I said to her, because it was "I love you, and I'll call when I get to Tokyo."

Brian shifted a little closer to him. "Funny, those were your exact words to me, too."

Justin looked at him sideways for a second. "Anyway, I don't feel guilty."

Brian stroked his hair once. "What is it, then?"

His voice broke. "I just fucking want her back."

22.

Brian let him cry. It was different from his tears the night before. He wasn't drunk. He didn't try to hold them in, and he didn't sob. He just cried, quietly and hard, his tears soaking into Brian's t-shirt.

"I don't even care about Christmas," he said, wiping his eyes with his arm. "But now I'll always think about this whenever I think of Christmas. And I'll always miss her all over again."

Brian cleared his throat. "That would happen no matter when she died. If it was in the summer, it would be picnics, or fireworks, or hot days."

23.

After a while, Justin stopped crying. Brian took the remote and turned off the television. "Are you hungry?"

Justin shrugged under his arm. "I don't know. Not really."

Brian kissed his hair. "Let me fill my own neurotic personal need to do something for you and make waffles or something."

Justin made a sound that was half a laugh and half a sniffle. "Do you have any of the ingredients of waffles here, or anything to make them in?"

"I have frozen waffles in the freezer and a toaster, and a bottle of Vermont maple syrup a client gave me."

24.

Justin sat up and stared. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Brian?"

Brian smiled at him. "I think my identity can withstand a few frozen waffles and some syrup." He paused, then went on. "And butter."

"Butter." Justin repeated it, amazed. "I thought you had to be stoned and with Michael to eat like a normal person." He looked at Brian. "Or be eating it off someone else's plate at the diner."

Brian laughed, stood up, and held out his hand. "Come on, Sunshine. How often does your partner offer to make breakfast for you?"

25.

Justin followed him into the kitchen. "Apparently once every eight years."

"This seemed like a good morning to start."

Justin watched Brian put the waffles – organic frozen whole wheat walnut and blueberry waffles from Whole Foods, of course – in the toaster. He put out a cube of butter and the tin of syrup, and made a fresh pot of coffee. Then he put the waffles on a plate and set them in front of him.

Justin took a cautious bite. "These are good." Brian was making more, presumably for himself. "This is nice, even if it is freaking me out."

26.

Brian refilled their coffee cups, put his waffles on a plate, and sat down next to Justin. "It's a Christmas miracle."

They ate quietly for a few minutes, then Justin got up to get more coffee. "We should call Gus."

"Yeah."

Justin took his coffee back to the sofa, and Brian followed.

Justin looked at him. "Did you think Gus seemed kind of freaked out yesterday?"

"He was. But he'll be okay. He's got his moms, and Debbie, and Michael and Zen Ben. It's like a whole team of therapists. He'll be helping us process our grief by tomorrow night."

27.

Justin laughed. "Yeah, probably." He set his cup down. "But still, I think we should call him. Maybe go over there."

"Over to… Deb's?"

Justin got up. "Yeah."

Brian followed him. "Are you sure?"

Justin was turning on the shower. "I'm positive," he said, his voice firm. "And I don't care how many perverted elves and demented reindeer she has." He looked right at Brian. "It's what I want to do."

Brian wrapped his arms around Justin's shoulders. "I've learned to never get in the way of what Justin Taylor has decided he's going to do." Then he kissed him.

28.

Brian pulled the Corvette up to the curb about half a block from Debbie's. He let his arm rest over Justin's shoulder as they walked towards the house, and they both stopped when they got to the pathway.

"She really should be on one of those shows next year." Justin was standing at the bottom of the path, watching the mechanical carolers swinging their lanterns and bells.

Brian propelled him towards the door with a hand on his back. "Don't encourage her."

Justin took a deep breath and reached for the bell. Brian rolled his eyes and opened the door.

29.

A wave of noise hit them, then silence, and then Debbie yelled, "Sunshine!"

Brian let the wave of noise wash over him as everyone pulled them into the room, took their coats, got lipstick on their faces, and rubbed it off. He just rode it out, waiting for…

Michael was standing right next to him, and Brian felt him pushing at him with his shoulder. He let himself be pushed, through the kitchen and out the back door.

He turned to his oldest and dearest friend and smiled. "Thanks."

Michael grinned, reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint.

30.

Brian's smile got bigger. "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey. Just when I think you've become the perfect husband, father, and Stepford fag of the year, you do something like this."

Brian lit the joint and took a lungful. Michael watched him holding it, and said, "What are best friends for?"

Brian let the smoke out in a long stream, then handed the joint to Michael. "Exactly."

They took a few more hits, and then Brian looped his arm around Michael's neck. "Thanks."

Michael looked at Brian. "I thought you guys weren't coming."

Brian shrugged. "Justin decided he was. It's pointless to argue."

31.

"Is he okay?" Michael had that wrinkle between his eyes that meant he was worried.

"Of course he's not fucking okay." He unhooked his arm from around Michael's neck. "But he will be."

Michael nodded. "I just think how I'd feel if my mom died."

"I know _just_ how I'll feel when mine does."

"Brian. You don't mean that."

"Of course I…"

Lindsay came out onto the porch, pulling her sweater tightly around her. "What are you two doing out here?"

Brian snorted. "Getting stoned and wishing it had been my mother instead of Justin's."

"Brian!" Michael and Lindsay chorused.

32.

When Brian went back inside, Justin was sitting on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, playing with some kind of exploding collapsing toy with Gus. He looked calm and relaxed; he was even smiling. But there was something around his eyes that Brian recognized.

He sat down cross-legged with them. "Hey."

Gus looked at him. "Where did you go, Daddy?"

Justin was trying not to laugh, and Brian had to bite his lip. "I had to talk with your Uncle Michael outside for a minute."

Gus nodded and went back to destructing and reconstructing his amphibious armored vehicle.

33.

Brian moved so he was sitting next to Justin, and put his arm around him. "I don't suppose you want to go?"

Justin didn't look at him, just moved the pieces of Gus' tank around on the rug. "We just got here."

Brian nodded. "And we wouldn't want to miss the food."

Justin looked at him sideways, but didn't say anything, just smiled.

Brian got up and went into the kitchen. "Got anything stronger than wine, Deb?"

She gave him a shrewd look. "You've known where I keep the hard stuff since you were 14 years old, Brian. Help yourself."

34.

Brian tried not to think about the damage Debbie's cheap scotch was going to do to his stomach, liver or reputation, and filled a glass.

"Maybe you should fill one of those for Justin, too" Debbie said. "He's looking a little shaky."

"Wouldn't you?" Brian snapped.

Debbie held up her hand. "Don't bite my head off. I'm on your side." Her face softened. "I couldn't believe it when I got the news about Jennifer. How did you find out?"

Brian felt the scotch burning its way down his throat. "Justin's sister called. She didn't have his cell number in Japan."

35.

Somehow he was sitting at the table with Debbie, her hand covering his. "That must have been hard on you, too, sweetie," she said. "I know you and Jennifer were close. For in-laws, I mean."

Brian shrugged. "She was all right." He took a gulp of the scotch. "For a mother-in-law, I mean."

Debbie frowned. "Brian, I know you have to take care of Justin right now, and you won't listen to a thing I have to say. But don't forget this happened to you, too."

"Nothing happened to me." He stood up and walked back to the living room.

36.

Dinner was over. Brian sat on the sofa. He had a cup of coffee in his hand, Gus on one side, and Justin on the other.

He was fairly sure if he didn't get out of there in the next five minutes he was going to throw Debbie's Christmas-song-spewing turntable out the window and drive his Corvette over her animated-holiday-nightmare lawn.

Justin put his coffee cup down. "Gus… I think Jenny Rebecca is about to eat your Transformer."

Gus raced off and Brian smiled into his coffee. "Thanks."

Justin laughed. "You look like you're ready to chew off your arm."

37.

Brian snorted. "That would be less violent than what I was actually contemplating."

Justin looked at him. "I figured." He stood up, and everyone in the room looked at them. "Don't get up, everyone. We're going home now, and we'll see you tomorrow."

And no one got up. They didn't follow them to the door, didn't load them up with leftovers, and no one cried.

When they were in the car, Brian said, "That was hot."

Justin frowned. "What was?"

"You getting bossy with everyone." It was the same voice Justin had used on Craig, but Brian didn't mention that.

38.

Justin was quiet on the way home. He was quiet in the elevator and quiet when they got back in the loft. He was quiet when Brian took him into the bedroom, stripped off both their clothes, and pulled the duvet over their shoulders.

Brian let his fingers curl around Justin's soft dick. It twitched against the palm of his hand, and he felt Justin breathe a sigh over the skin of his chest. He nuzzled into his hair, and murmured a wordless question.

Justin's tongue was warm and wet in Brian's mouth, and his arms tightened around his neck.

39.

Brian fucked him. He wanted to, and Justin wanted him to. Brian needed it, too, but that was something he didn't think about. He just thought about how Justin's ass felt on his cock, his legs around his waist, and his fingernails biting into his skin.

"I love you," Brian told him, and then he was coming, Justin spilling in between their bodies at the same time, everything wet and hot.

Justin started crying before he even let his legs fall to the bed. And Brian held him for a long time before he realized he was crying, too.

40.

Brian woke up; it was still dark. He could hear the shower in the bathroom, and smelled coffee. He relaxed for a second, then he remembered. The funeral.

The bathroom was full of steam, and Justin kept his back to him while he pissed. Brian got in the shower and picked up the shampoo. "It's not even 7 yet."

"I couldn't sleep." Justin tipped back his head while Brian rubbed the shampoo into his hair. "I don't feel like waffles again. Can we go get breakfast?"

"Sure." Brian started to wash his own hair.

"But not the diner," Justin said.

41.

They ate at a café near PIFA, then walked down by the river. Brian turned his collar up and kept his arm around Justin's shoulders.

Justin didn't seem to notice the cold. He just looked out at the water and leaned into Brian's side. "Makiko emailed me."

Brian nodded. "When do you have to go back?"

Justin shrugged. "She was so polite and understanding I couldn't quite figure out what she was trying to tell me." He sighed. "I'll think about it later. After."

They stood there for a few more minutes, and then they walked back to the car.

42.

Justin spoke at his mother's graveside. He didn't cry, and his voice didn't break. Molly was standing next to him, her eyes red.

Brian watched Craig. He was standing only a few feet from his children, but he never looked at Justin. His eyes were down, and a few times he glanced at Jennifer's coffin. He never even looked at Molly until she started crying.

Justin put his arm around her, and kept speaking.

Craig folded his arms across his chest and saw Brian looking at him. Brian didn't look away, and after a long moment, Craig dropped his eyes.

43.

Justin was talking to relatives when Brian saw Debbie. She hugged him, ignoring the stiffness in his body like she always did. He noticed she was on her toes, so he bent his knees a little.

She laughed and smacked his cheek lightly. "That was a helluva speech Justin gave." Her smile faded. "I didn't think he'd take me up on it when I offered to have the reception." She gestured at the group standing around him. "I thought he'd want one of his relatives to have it."

Brian shook his head. "He wanted to keep it in the family."

 

44.

They didn't stay long at Debbie's, just long enough to see Craig visibly flinch at the lawn display, and for Brian to accuse Michael of taking down the leather elves.

He just shrugged. "There is such a thing as too much."

Brian snorted. "Don't tell me; tell Deb."

He looked for Justin and finally found him with Molly in Michael's old bedroom. It didn't look the same anymore, but Brian felt a strange sense of déjà vu when he stood at the door.

Molly was sobbing on Justin's shoulder, and he was crying, too. Brian hesitated, then cleared his throat.

45.

Justin looked up. "Hey."

Molly wiped her face with her arm. "Is my dad looking for me?"

Brian snorted. "I'd be the last person he'd ask."

She laughed and sniffled at the same time. "Good point."

Justin stood up. "I'm ready to go." He looked at Molly. "You're okay going with Dad?"

She nodded. "He doesn't hate _me_."

Justin laughed. "Yet."

Molly hit his arm. "If I decide to be a lesbian or an atheist or anything, _I'm_ not going to be stupid enough to tell him until he's paid for college."

Brian looked at Justin. "I like your sister."

46.

When they got back to the loft, Justin changed into jeans and a sweater. He'd been sitting and staring at the computer for half an hour when Brian handed him a glass of scotch.

Justin took it and sighed. "I'm trying to figure out what the fuck to tell Makiko."

"Let me see her email." Brian read it, tapping his finger on the desk. "I'd say she's freaking out."

Justin nodded. "In a very quiet, unobtrusive, discreet kind of way."

They moved over to the sofa. "There's only one thing you have to decide: What do you _want_ to do?"

47.

Justin sat next to him, and stared at the ceiling. "Right now, I just want to crawl into bed for a month."

"You can do that." Brian smiled down at him. "And I'll crawl right in with you."

Justin laughed, and smacked his arm. "It sounds better already."

"Or… I could go to Tokyo with you." He took a sip of his drink.

Justin sat up and stared at him. "That's crazy."

Brian shrugged. "I was coming for the opening in three weeks anyway. Why is it crazy?"

"Can you get away for three weeks?"

"Who'll tell me I can't?"

48.

Justin chewed on his thumbnail. He drank some scotch. He stared at Brian. Then he nodded. "Okay."

Brian snorted. "But I'm picking the hotel. It's one thing for a place to be painfully hip; the one you were in looked just painful."

Justin smiled. "Yeah, it was a little on the small side."

Brian caught Justin's chin with his hand. "Justin. Whatever you want – stay, go, alone, with me. Just tell me."

Justin smiled and kissed him. "I already did. Come with me."

They kissed for a long time, and finally Justin stood up and pulled Brian into the bedroom.

49.

Justin emailed Makiko that he'd be back in two or three days. Brian went into Kinnetik the next day, and flinched as he cleared his schedule. But Cynthia and Ted just nodded as he handed everything off to them.

"Tell Justin I'm sorry I wasn't here for the funeral," Ted said. "I called him last night, but he didn't pick up."

"He's been spending a lot of time with his sister." Brian folded his lip in for a second. "I'll tell him."

Ted surprised him by hugging him; Brian rolled his eyes and hugged him back at the same time.

50.

Their flight was leaving at 7 in the morning. Brian checked both their suitcases for the third time: condoms, lube, underwear, socks, suits for the opening packed so they wouldn't wrinkle, moisturizer, aspirin, iPods tucked into the outer pocket of their laptop bags.

Then he gave up and went out into the living room, where Justin had spent the last half hour doing something on the computer. "Sunshine – are you trying to live on Tokyo time before we even get there?"

He shook his head. "Just emailing Molly. But I'm done." He shut off the computer and came to bed.

51.

Brian kissed him, then nuzzled his way down his body, kissing every rib and muscle, biting his nipples.

Justin's cock was leaking when Brian licked the head and tongued the slit. He moaned when he slid his mouth down his cock at the same time he stroked behind his balls

Brian pulled back and licked the head again, smooth wet swirls, lingering on the sensitive spot under the rim. Justin was grabbing at his hair with one hand, his other arm over his head. Then Brian slid his mouth down again and swallowed, and Justin's come flooded into his throat.

52.

Brian crawled back up Justin's body, his hand on his own cock. He knelt over him, and Justin wrapped his fingers over Brian's. When he came, it shot over Justin's pubes and chest.

Justin wiped them both off, then flopped down next to Brian. Their fingers tangled loosely between them on the bed. "We'll be in Tokyo for New Year's Eve."

"We're landing on New Year's Day."

Justin sat up and frowned. "Tomorrow's the 30th."

"In Pittsburgh. In Tokyo it's the 31st."

He flopped back down. "We're losing a day."

Brian shrugged. "We'll get it back when we come home."

53.

Justin was quiet for a long time. "I think part of the reason I want to go back is that I can pretend she's not dead. I'll be in Japan, like I was before, and I can tell myself she's just back here."

Brian turned onto his side. "Pretend whatever you want."

"Does that work?"

"No." Brian gently traced the edge of Justin's jaw. "But feel free to keep looking for something that does."

Justin put his hand on Brian's wrist. "This works." His voice was soft in the dark.

Brian smiled. "Yeah." He kissed him. "I guess it does."

54.

Brian and Justin stood in front of a large painting, a swirl of gray and something Justin insisted wasn't pink. "It's oyster," he said.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Oyster. Fine. The important thing is that it sold."

"They all sold," Justin reminded him.

"I'm not surprised." He snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, and handed one to Justin. "To a son any mother would be proud of." He paused. "And who I'm proud of."

They took a sip, then Justin grinned. "That was really corny."

Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek. "And yet you loved it."

55.

Justin leaned into him a little. "It's funny… she should have hated you, if you think about it."

Brian snorted. "I'm sure she did."

"She got over it." Justin sipped some more champagne, then looked at him. "In fact, I think she liked you more than I did there for a while."

Brian's lips rolled into his mouth for a second. "Well, you knew me better."

Justin laughed. "She was so upset we didn't get married. She kept asking me if I was really sure. And she fucking loved that house."

"That's me," Brian said. "Every mother's dream come true."

56.

Justin's face flushed, and Brian touched his cheek. "Hey."

"I never know when it's going to happen." He had tears in his eyes.

Brian took Justin's glass and set it down with his on the table behind them. "I know." He put his arm around him again. "Do you suppose we're shocking everyone?"

Justin glanced around. "No. It's like New York. They're unshockable."

Brian steered him towards another painting. "Good." He kissed him.

They finally pulled apart, laughing. "Go schmooze," Brian said. "I'm getting another drink."

He watched Justin join the small group in front of one of his paintings.

57.

The plane shuddered as the wheels hit the runway. "Back in the Pitts," Brian said.

Justin looked out the window. "It's starting to feel real again. That she's gone."

Brian put his hand on Justin's knee, but didn't say anything.

When they got to the gate, he stood up and pulled their coats and laptops out of the overhead compartment. He kept his hand on Justin's back as they went down the gangway. "Should we kiss the ground?"

Justin laughed. "No. But I want a cheeseburger and fries."

"You know," Brian said, looking surprised. "That sounds good to me, too."

58.

It was almost midnight when they got to the diner. Debbie was scribbling an order and without looking up called, "Sit anywhere you'd like. I'll be with you in a minute."

Brian sighed. "Forgotten us so soon, Deb?"

She whipped around and grabbed them both in a big hug. "Brian! Sunshine! When did you get home?"

"Just now," Justin said. "And we're starving for some good American diner food."

"Well sit down, honey, sit down. I know just what you need."

They slid into a booth, and Brian held Justin's hand across the table. "Welcome home."

Justin smiled. "You too."  



End file.
